


Dances With Dragons

by PrettiestStar17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Charlie Weasley - Freeform, Charmione, Dragons, F/M, Love, Misogyny, Post Hogwarts, hermione granger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 18:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettiestStar17/pseuds/PrettiestStar17
Summary: Hermione Granger has been sent to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary to work on an unexpected project. She has a problem though. She's been avoiding a certain Weasley for the past six years.





	Dances With Dragons

A violet parchment airplane lazily glided into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It did a slow loop-the-loop before falling onto Hermione Granger’s desk. She brushed it to the side and continued reading the Graphorn dossier she was in the middle of. After a minute, the airplane started to emit a low hum but Hermione paid it little attention. Another minute and the hum had turned into a beep. So engrossed in Spain’s strict poaching regulations, the insistent noise didn’t break Hermione’s focus. It wasn’t until Philip Cors, the wizard in the cubicle across from hers, leaned over and smacked her head with a file folder that she finally looked up and took notice to the squealing, and now smoking, memo on her desk.

“Merlin, Granger! Pay attention!” Philip snapped before disappearing behind his cubicle wall. 

Hermione scowled at the divider as she rubbed the top of her head. The smack hadn’t hurt, but surely there was a better way to get her attention than physical violence. With a sigh, she picked up her wand and tapped the purple parchment. It instantly quieted and unfolded to reveal a note from her department head, requesting she come to his office immediately. Tossing the parchment aside, Hermione rolled her eyes and scrubbed her hands over her face. She loathed her department head and avoided his office as much as possible. 

Merrick Bodge was an abhorrent individual. He was a large, narcissistic, lazy, condescending human being. Though Hermione thought he only just barely cleared the bar on his ability to be called a human being. The man revered good looks, power, and popularity and never hid the fact that he played favorites with his subordinates and kissed the arses of the higher-ups. An outspoken woman with frizzy hair and small breasts was the equivalent of a punching bag to Merrick Bodge.

Letting out a low groan, Hermione wrapped herself in her grey cardigan and proceeded to the department head’s office. She really wanted to take her time and annoy the arsehole more, but she knew he would already be in a sour mood with her as it was. When she reached the closed door, Hermione took a steadying breath and gave the door one quick knock.

“Enter!” Bodge barked.

Hermione willed her face to take on a passive appearance as she stepped into the spacious office. She was barely through the doorway when Bodge shouted, “Close the damn door!”

“You wanted to see me?” Hermione said, through clenched teeth and a forced smile. 

“What took you so long, Granger? When I say come to my office immediately that means immediately. Don’t wait. Stop what you’re doing. Immediately means get your arse here now!”

“Apologies, Mr. Bodge. I was in the middle of the Graphorn dossier that you had sent and instructed me to read, immediately.”

“Graphorns? Who gives a bloody fuck about Graphorns. Sit down,” Bodge said and started rifling through a stack of files.

“I prefer to stand, thank you.”

“I said, sit.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes and bit her tongue. She could faintly taste blood and had an urge to spit it at her boss. Holding herself together, she swallowed the urge, and the blood, and perched on the edge of one of the wooden seats in front of Bodge’s desk. She crossed her legs at the ankles and pulled her cardigan tighter.

Bodge pulled a green file from his stack and pushed the rest to the side. He opened it and held it up in front of his porky face. The only benefit to this action was that his target was given a reprieve from his predatory gaze. Everyone in the office knew, though, that this was one of his favorite intimidation tactics. He’d stare at a document for several silent minutes, reading through as though it was his first time seeing it. In reality, it was his way of ensuring that the person across from him was devoting their full attention to him. Gods forbid he look up and catch an employee mid-yawn or brushing a piece of lint from their robes.

After what felt like an eternity, Bodge put the parchment down and said, “You’ve been requested for an on-site assignment.”

Hermione blinked. “R-r-requested, sir?”

“Yes, requested. Fuck knows why. If I had my way, I’d send Clayton. Her face is much more suited to represent us abroad.” Hermione bristled at the mention of her co-worker, Gloria Clayton. She was blonde, leggy, and had boobs that defied the laws of nature. 

“As it stands, they asked for you specifically,” Bodge continued on as if he hadn’t just thrown out as passive aggressive insult at one of his employees.

“I’m sorry, sir, but who is ‘they’?”

“The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. A new breed has been discovered and they need extra hands to assist in studying and classifying the beasts. They’re selecting people from several other countries to come and contribute their ‘unique knowledge’.” 

As if Hermione wasn’t already tense enough, she felt a new surge of anxiety flood her body. Romania.

She shook her head and insisted, “No, please, send Gloria. You’re right, she is much better suited for the assignment.”

“I know I’m right!” Bodge snapped. His already rosy cheeks grew redder. “This is a direct request that even I can’t ignore. Here,” he said, shoving the file at her. “All the information you’ll need is in there. Your portkey leaves tomorrow morning. You can take the rest of the day off to pack and prepare.”

“Mr. Bodge, please, I--”

“Goodbye, Granger.”

Hermione grimaced and turned to the door. The battle was lost and--

“Oh, one last thing,” Bodge called. Hermione dropped her hand from the doorknob and turned back to her boss. “You’re Muggle-born, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered, her right eye giving a slight twitch. He asked her this question at least once a week. 

“I heard Muggles have procedures that can enhance certain assets of girls’ bodies. You should look into them.”

* * *

“The audacity of that insufferable prick!” Hermione shrieked as she paced back and forth in the office of Harry Potter. “How can he still have a job? There has to be something we can do!”

Harry frowned and nodded his head in sympathy. As soon as Hermione had entered his office, he had thrown up Muffliato spell so that she could rant and vent as loud as she wanted.

“Unless he gets physical, there’s only so much that can be done.” He got up and walked around to the front of his desk. Sitting on the edge, he said, “Bodge is smart. He talks to his employees one on one, making any complaints against him a ‘he said/she said’ situation. Unless you can get others to present a united front against him--”

“I’d have better luck securing a spot on the national Quidditch squad,” Hermione muttered.

“The man has no brains, but he sure as hell knows how to cover his ass.” Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her to a stop. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said, wrapping her in a hug. “You deserve better than that. At least by going to Romania, it gives you a chance to get some time away from him.”

“That’s not a real consolation. I go from one stressful man to another.” Hermione’s frustrated scream was muffled by Harry’s robes. “Why would he insist on me for this assignment?” She stepped away from Harry and flopped into a chair.

Harry shrugged and said, “No one knows how Charlie Weasley’s mind works. It’s been six years, though, ‘Mione. I’m sure it doesn’t go much deeper than he knows how smart you are and that by bringing you in they’re bringing in the best.”

“And if it’s not just that?”

“Hermione,” Harry sighed, giving her a little smile. “After everything you’ve been through and accomplished, surely you’re not afraid of a Weasley?”

“Not afraid, per se. Just a tad bit...anxious,” Hermione said, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“Well, personally, I think this will be good for you in many ways. Most importantly, it gets you out of that oppressive office and away from fucking Bodge. You’ll get to work hands-on with dragons, which is an opportunity that comes around every day. Lastly, you’ve been avoiding Charlie for six years now. It’s time to get closure.”

Hermione nodded and let out a slow exhale. “Yeah, closure. That’s what I need.” She brushed a few stray curls from her face and stood up. “Thanks, Harry. You’re right. Time away from this place will do me good.”

“Want to come over for dinner tonight?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. My portkey leaves early tomorrow morning and I need to go do some shopping. I don’t think my office attire is going to cut it on a dragon reserve.”

“Probably not.” He gave her a hug and patted her on the back. “Send us an owl when you get a chance and let us know how everything is going.”

* * *

Hermione stepped out of the Romanian Ministry to bright sunshine and bustling morning traffic. Stifling a yawn, she dug her sunglasses and an elastic from her purse. The late June heat was already setting in, making her curls frizz and stick to the back of her sweaty neck. Once she had her hair off her neck and shoulders, she glanced around the courtyard, trying to deduce who was here to take her north to the sanctuary. 

“Hermione!”

At the sound of her name, Hermione spun around to find a tall figure jogging towards her. Long, red hair flowing behind him, Charlie Weasley easily cut a path through the courtyard as people scurried out of his way. In an instant, he was beside her and scooping her into a hug that lifted her off her feet.

With a hesitant laugh, she patted his shoulder and said, “Hello, Charlie. I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”

“You think I’d let some nobody come and pick you up?” 

He set her back down and smiled at her. Hermione plastered on her best attempt at a casual smile. She could do this. It was just Charlie.

“Ready for adventure?”

“I guess I’m a few years past due for one,” she joked, making Charlie chuckle.

“I promise no Horcruxes on this one.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and grabbed her suitcase, then led her to a secluded area at the side of the building. Moving his arm from her shoulders, he took her hand and asked, “Ready?”

Hermione nodded and immediately felt the pull of apparition. After a few breathless moments, she was deposited onto thick, soft grass, on the edge of a dense bank of trees. Her eyes drifted to the skies, trying to spot a dragon between the fluffy clouds. 

“Won’t be able to see them from here,” Charlie called.

Looking to her right, she saw Charlie heaving her suitcase into the back of a topless, doorless Range Rover. He waved her over as he jumped into the passenger side of the vehicle. He certainly didn’t expect her to drive, did he? She had her Muggle license but was not at all comfortable driving in a strange country, let alone in the middle of nowhere in said strange country.

“Come on. If we hurry we can still catch the tail end of breakfast.”

Hermione cautiously approached the car and glanced into the side opposite Charlie to find him waiting patiently behind the steering wheel. When she let out a sigh of relief he smirked and shook his head.

“Think I was gonna make you drive?” he asked as she clamored into the passenger seat.

“I didn’t realize they drove on the right side here,” Hermione explained, snapping her belt into place. 

Charlie turned the key in the ignition but nothing happened. Hermione had a moment of panic, thinking they were stuck there until the car started to silently move towards the trees. Upon closer inspection, she could see that the lights of the dashboard were lit up and Charlie was shoving a cassette tape into the stereo. He kept the volume low as Zeppelin's Fool in the Rain started playing.

“This entire area is outfitted with Muggle repelling spells. On maps, it appears as a nuclear quarantine area. But, as you will see, it will easily welcome registered witches and wizards,” Charlie explained and veered left onto a tire worn path.

In spite of the head’s up, Hermione still grasped her seat when it appeared as though Charlie was about to drive head-on into a thick Beech tree. 

“Don’t close your eyes,” Charlie instructed as if he could read her mind.

Hermione willed her eyelids up and was in awe as the wall of trees parted, allowing the Range Rover to glide past, unobstructed. She twisted in her seat to watch them sweep back into place. A screech from overhead had her facing front again and craning her neck to catch a glimpse of a deep blue dragon fly past.

“A Swedish Short-Snout,” Hermione said in awe.

She had had several encounters with dragons over the years but it didn’t make the sight any less mesmerizing. Yes, she had a magic wand and could perform countless spells and went to school in a castle, but she never felt more like she was living in a real-life fairytale than when she was reminded how real dragons were. 

“It never gets old, does it?” Charlie said. 

Damn, the man really could read her mind.

“When did you become a Legilimens?” Hermione asked, settling back in her seat.

“It’s been a while. People change a lot in six years.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say to that so she stared straight ahead, avoiding Charlie’s sideways glances. She knew she had to talk to him but she was hoping to postpone it a bit longer. The silence was starting to get overwhelming and Hermione desperately searched her brain for a safe topic of conversation. It ended up landing on Charlie’s bandaged forearm.

“Reflexes not what they once were?” Hermione commented, nodding at his arm.

Charlie laughed and shook his head. “Nah, just had a moment of overconfidence with our newest resident. Let my guard down during a physical and the little bugger bit me.”

“Is this the dragon I’ve been brought in to help with?”

“That would be the one. We’ll be seeing her shortly.” 

The Rover silently trundled on over the path. Most of the area was a clear open field, nothing like the dense forest that the entrance had alluded to. Miles in the distance were towering mountains. Their destination appeared to be a copse of trees that were sheltering wood cabins. Charlie slowed down and parked at the end of a line five Rovers.

“If you want to go anywhere on the reserve you either need to drive or walk. “We have silencing spells on all the Rovers so that the engines don’t startle the dragons,” Charlie explained as he hopped out. He levitated her suitcase from the back and brought it to hover by his side. “There are silencing spells on all the Rovers so that the engines don’t startle the dragons and there are anti-apparition spells cloaking the entire area. This means that no unauthorized people can sneak in and it saves everyone here from accidentally apparating onto a sleeping dragon.”

“I can imagine the dragons would not take too kindly to that,” Hermione said with a grimace. 

“You will be staying in my cabin,” Charlie said, motioning for Hermione to follow him. 

“Oh...where will you be staying?” Hermione asked as she jogged to catch up.

“Also in my cabin.”

She could only see the back of his head, but Hermione knew there was a smug grin on his face. Why wasn’t she alerted to the sleeping arrangements beforehand?

“I don’t want to crowd you out of your place. I can just set up a tent for the next week or so,” Hermione suggested.

“Relax, Hermione. It’s not like we’ll be sharing a bed. You’ll have your own room, away from me. Just the way you prefer.”

Hermione stopped, letting Charlie continue on. His words hurt, like a slap across the face. She didn’t prefer it that way!

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione called out, making Charlie stop and turn. 

His face held no sign of a smug grin as he strode back to her, breaking the hovering spell and letting her suitcase drop to the earth with a thud.

“You know what it means,” he said calmly. “I know you’ve been avoiding me for the last six years, no matter how many times Harry and Ginny make lame excuses for your absences at dinners and parties. If that’s the arrangement you want, fine. You can go back to pretending that I don’t exist once this is all wrapped up. I just thought I’d let you know that I’m well aware of your feelings towards me and you don’t need to worry about any unwanted advances while you’re here.”

With that, Charlie levitated her suitcase once again and continued his trek to the cabins. Hermione followed slowly, keeping a respectable distance between them. As he pointed out the bathrooms and cafeteria and labs, she only half paid attention. It felt like for a brief moment she had switched viewpoints and got a glimpse of what Charlie had been experiencing in her absence. 

* * *

“Good girl,” Hermione cooed, running her hand over the baby dragon’s head. The light blue youngling tried to let out a screech but only ended up emitting several sparks that hit Hermione’s shoulder and left singed holes in her brown, khaki button up. “Don’t worry, you’ll find your voice soon, I’m sure.”

“She’s really taken to you,” a Spanish Dragonologist named Raul commented. He finished re-splinting the dragon’s wing and then followed Hermione out of the enclosure. After locking the gate, he turned to her and asked, “What was it you were calling her?”

“Oh, um, Beryl,” Hermione said. Charlie told her not to name the dragon because she would only end up overly attached and then heartbroken when it was time for it to return to the wild, but she couldn’t help it. The blue hues of the dragon’s scales were so pretty and one day the name Beryl slipped out and stuck.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful dragon. Be careful or you might find yourself never wanting to leave.” He flashed her a smile and headed towards the cafeteria. Hermione was torn between grabbing a quick lunch and going back to the cabin and soaking her aching feet. She took a step towards the cafeteria, bit her lip in pain, then turned and limped to the cabin.

Once inside. Hermione made herself a cup of tea, dug out a package of biscuits Harry had sent her, then collapsed into the well-worn armchair and slowly eased her feet into a bucket of steaming water. She was pretty sure her blisters had blisters.

She had been on the reserve a week and there had been no easing into her tasks. After breakfast on her first day, she had been introduced to her team and then shoved back into a Range Rover heading for the mountains. An older woman, Yolanda, was at the wheel this time and didn’t seem aware that the car could travel at various speeds. She put the pedal to the floor and raced across the field. Since then, Hermione had avoided riding with Yolanda whenever possible. 

Their current problem was that the young dragon they were currently caring for was a breed that no one had ever seen before. A Dragonologist had found it at the base of one of the mountains with a broken wing and several gashes. Since then, they had been working to rehabilitate the baby while combing the mountain for signs of either of its parents and trying to classify the dragon type. 

Hermione was finding herself enjoying the work. It was hell on her body, getting used to climbing, lifting, and literal dragon wrangling, but all of it beat a day stuck in a cramped cubicle, dealing with Bodge’s demands. Even stuck with a tense and awkward Charlie Weasley, she’d take blisters and burns over meetings and misogyny. 

“Sore feet?”

Hermione looked up and saw Charlie enter the small sitting room and pour a cup of tea. He nicked one of her biscuits, ignoring her scowl.

“A few blisters hit their breaking point this morning,” Hermione mumbled.

“Ahh, don’t move,” he said, putting down his mug and retreating to his bedroom.

“Where exactly am I gonna go?” she grumbled.

Within a minute, Charlie was back and pouring a sweet smelling, pink potion into her bucket. Her feet instantly felt as though they were being wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel. She could feel the blisters shrinking and the tension in her muscles fading. 

“What is that stuff?” Hermione asked. 

“An all in one healing solution the twins concocted. It can’t heal any major damage but works wonders on minor burns, scrapes, and blistered feet.” He corked the bottle and set it down, picking his mug of tea back up. “They send me a bottle every month so I don’t run out. If not for them, I’d have a lot more scars.”

“Those two could make a small fortune on just that, let alone all their other inventions.”

Charlie hummed in agreement and leaned back against the counter. “When your feet are back to normal, grab a sweater. You’re with me this afternoon and we’re going to search the upper mountain regions.”

“How are we getting up there?”

“By broom.”

“Brilliant,” Hermione muttered, letting her head fall back. “The one thing I avoided at Hogwarts.”

“We’re going together. You don’t have to fly on your own.”

‘Even better,’ Hermione thought, rubbing her hands over her face. She summoned a towel and drank the last of her tea before pulling her feet out and drying them off. The skin was pink from the heat but it was soft and blister free. She made her way to her room to put on a fresh pair of socks and get a sweater. After several searches through her meager wardrobe, she concluded that she had neglected to pack anything with long sleeves.

She went back to the sitting room and started lacing her boots up. “I seem to have left all of my warmer clothes at home,” she said.

“You didn’t bring any sweaters or a jacket along?” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s summer. I didn't think I would need one.”

Charlie sighed, set his mug in the sink and went back to his bedroom. When he returned, he tossed her a sweater. When Hermione unfolded it she found it was one of Molly Weasley’s knitted Christmas sweaters. This one was charcoal grey with a gold C in the middle. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said, pulling it over her head. Charlie leaned forward and had to roll the sleeves several times before her hands reappeared and she could pull it down over her hips and bum.

“Perfect. Let’s roll out.”

* * *

“This is starting to feel hopeless,” Charlie sighed, resting against a tree. He pulled his water jug from his rucksack and took a long pull from it before passing it to Hermione. “This isn’t normal dragon behaviour. Mothers are never far from their hatchlings. To be away from one this long is unheard of.”

“What happens if the baby is fully rehabilitated and we still haven’t found the mother? You can’t send one that young off on its own, can you?” Hermione wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and handed the jug back to Charlie. 

“No, we can’t. It’ll never survive with all the territorial males. The average hatchling stays with its mother for about a year, until it can fly and hunt on its own.” He capped the jug, shoved it back into his pack and push off the tree. “Let’s keep going before we lose sunlight.”

The pair had been up on the mountain for three hours now. They had found signs of Ukranian Ironbellies and Norwegian Ridgebacks. They even spotted a Hebridean Black soar past. But there was no sign of their mystery dragon.

As they trudged on, higher and higher, Hermione hugged Charlie’s oversized sweater closer to her body. He had also lent her a pair of dragonhide gloves to protect her hands for the few times they actually had to climb, but a chill still ran through her body. A part of her wished for a little dragon fire at that moment. 

Hermione pushed through the cold temps and her aching bones and muscles. She was pretty sure a few new blisters had sprouted and her hair was an uncontrollable mess that even an elastic couldn’t tame. She had suffered through worse in her life and wasn’t about to let Charlie think she couldn’t hack it in the wild.

As they approached a small cave, a bright sparkle caught Hermione’s eye. Charlie continued into the gave to look around but Hermione veered left to investigate. At first, she thought it was just a shard of ice. When she knelt down and got a closer look she could see that it was slightly cloudier in color than ice. Brushing off a bit of dirt revealed a piece of glass in the shape of a perfect octagon. The cloudy color looked almost pearl like.

Hermione took off her gloves and shoved them into her back pockets. She gingerly lifted the piece of glass by the edges and held it closer to her face. Running a finger over the top, she could feel small ridges and indents. It wasn’t a piece of glass at all…

“Charlie!” she yelled, hurrying back to the mouth of the cave. “Charlie, I found something!”

Charlie rushed out, stopping just in front of her as she held up her find. His face held a brief look of excitement before it faded and he said, “You called me out for an icicle?”

“It’s not an icicle. Look, I’m holding it with my bare hands,” Hermione said, wiggling her fingers at him. “It’s not cold or melting. I’m almost certain it’s a dragon scale. Here.” She thrust the piece at him.

Charlie held it up in front of his eyes and examined it. From her own pack, Hermione pulled out a magnifying glass and passed it to him. 

“Thank you,” he muttered. He was silent for a minute as he examined the piece from every angle. “I think you might be right. I’ve never seen anything like this. Where did you find it?”

“Right over there.” Hermione pointed to the left of the cave. “I thought it was ice too, at first, but when I looked closer the coloring was off for an icicle. It’s too cloudy for…” Hermione trailed off and looked up at the sky. “Can I have it back for a moment?”

Charlie passed the scaled back to Hermione and she held it up above her head. If she couldn't feel the end of the edge of the scale on her fingertips, she would have sworn it had disappeared.

“That’s why you can’t find them. They have their own built-in invisibility cloaks,” Hermione said in awe. She tipped the scale back and forth, but could still see nothing. As soon as she brought it down the pearly sheen was visible again. “I bet as Beryl grows, her scales will get lighter.”

Charlie slapped his hand over his face and shook his head. “I told you not to name the dragons…” Before Hermione could reply, he reentered the cave. When he returned, he was holding two more scales. “Do you have a cloth in your bag that I can wrap these in to protect them until we get back to the lab.”

“Here,” Hermione said, pulling a glove from her back pocket. “Tuck it into this.”

“Hermione, your hands are going to freeze on the ride down the mountain.”

“Eh, they’ll thaw. Come on,” she said, shaking the glove at him. “Put them in and let’s go. It’s beef stew night and if we’re late, we’ll be stuck with just bread.”

At the sight of Charlie’s smile heat flooded Hermione’s body. It had been a while since she had gotten a genuine smile out of him. She wanted to kick herself for being the one who had made it go away.

“Fuck, yeah. If we don’t get there before Edwin we’re screwed.” He gently tucked the scales into Hermione’s glove and pulled the broomstick from his pack. Once Hermione had safely stowed the delicate treasure in her bag, she seated herself behind Charlie on the broomstick and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Hold on tight.”

* * *

The first part of their task had been completed. They still hadn’t found the mother, but at least they knew what they were looking for. Upon closer inspection in the lab, the initial hypothesis was that this dragon was linked to the Antipodean Opaleye, but had evolved into a smaller breed with enhanced camouflaging.

The excitement on the reserve was running high. Teams were already strategizing how they might be able to spot one of the adults in the wild and Hermione spent the entirety of dinner fielding questions and offering opinions on how best to go about the next step. She was so wrapped up in everything, she never noticed Charlie slip away from the cafeteria. 

As she approached the cabin, the noise of the cafeteria faded away and she could hear the crackle and pops of a campfire. Charlie was sitting on a chair that had been carved from a tree stump, stoking the fire with a metal poker held in one hand and clutching a tea mug in his other. 

“Hey,” Hermione greeted softly, not wanting to startle him. He looked up at her but said nothing. “Can we talk a bit?”

“Sure, pull up a stump,” Charlie said and summon another chair for her. “What would you like to talk about? The weather? Quidditch scores? The political state of Britain?”

“The weather has been nice. I tune Ron and Harry out when they start talking Quidditch. As for the political state of Britain, I really don’t have a strong opinion for or against Tony Blair.”

“Right, good talk.” Charlie stuck the poker into the earth and stood up.

“Charlie, please,” Hermione said, grabbing Charlie’s hand and giving a tug back towards his seat. 

Charlie gazed down at her, his face full of skepticism. But when Hermione gave his hand a squeeze, he reciprocated the gesture and sat back down. She kept hold of his hand and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Charlie didn’t pull his hand away but silently stared at her.

“After our night together, I got scared.” Hermione licked her lips and stared at their hands, willing herself to go on. “I...I was leaving for a year with my apprenticeship and didn’t know how you felt about me. I thought that if there was going to be anything between us, you would have let me know. After a few weeks went by with nothing I chalked it up to a friends with benefits shag and moved on. Well, I tried to move on at least.” A few tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes but were quickly dried by the heat of the fire. 

Charlie continued to say nothing so Hermione went on. “That night with you was so special for me. I had admired you from afar for years. You starred in so many of my fantasies and, to be honest, still do, but I had resigned myself to the fact that you wouldn’t ever see me as more than another little sister.”

“But then you kissed me, that night before I left, and it was like all my fantasies had come true. I still remember every touch, every sound...everything. Losing myself in you that night was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I replay that night so often…” Hermione trailed off with a morose laugh. “I avoided any function where I might run into you because I felt cast aside and it hurt more than I wanted it to. And now I find out that you were hurting just as much and I feel so foolish. I could have easily sent you a letter or sought you out when my apprenticeship was through. But I was a coward and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for avoiding you. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for this crazy rambling that’s been building up in me the last week. I’m sorry--”

She never got to continue her long-winded apology ramble. Charlie interrupted by pulling her to her feet and capturing her lips with his.

Hermione let out a surprised squeak but Charlie just smiled against her mouth and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting him deepen the kiss. It was like being transported to that late August night, tucked behind the tall reeds by the pond. Hermione could hear raucous laughter and music and briefly wondered if it was coming from the reserve or from her vivid memory.

When Charlie broke the kiss, he cupped her cheeks and kept his face close to hers. Her gaze swept over his features, the light from the fire throwing his small scars into sharp relief. He had added more to his collection in the six years that they had been apart, but he was still just as beautiful. 

“How could you ever think I would cast you aside?” he whispered, brushing his thumb over her tear soaked cheeks. 

“Because everyone else does. Ron, my co-workers, blind dates, my boss--”

Charlie placed his finger on her lips with a gentle shush. “My brother tends to have his head up his own ass. Your co-workers are dumb. Your blind dates must have literally been blind. And your boss...Bodge is underqualified to shovel dragon dung, let alone run an entire fucking department. You’re free to tell him I said that also.” 

Hermione laughed, imagining her department head’s face if she would dare to insult his credibility like that. Then she imagined Bodge failing to properly shovel dragon shit and dissolved into giggles, burying her face in Charlie’s chest. 

“Hermione Granger, you are intelligent and beautiful and funny and so fucking sexy. I’d have to be mental to cast you aside so easily.”

“I am not sexy,” Hermione said. She tried to take a step back but Charlie pulled her closer.

“I’ve seen what you hide under those cardigans and baggy t-shirts, Miss Granger. You might be able to fool lesser men but not me.” He kissed her again, making her head spin and clutch his shirt in her fists. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know how you were feeling and wanted to keep a respectable distance. I feared you thought of me as some creepy, older man that wanted nothing more than to take advantage of your innocence. When it became obvious you were avoiding me, I thought you found me disgusting and were ashamed of what we had done.”

“Never,” Hermione whispered. 

She pulled him in for another slow, lazy kiss. Unlike her, he had shed his sweater after they descended the mountain and cloaked in a thin, white cotton t-shirt. She took advantage of his wardrobe choices and her hands across his chest and down his torso, reveling in the hard, defined muscles she felt.

“I’m really glad you chose me coming to the reserve,” she said, walking her fingers up his bicep and over his shoulder.

“Actually, my boss chose you. I was the one that made him insist on you and no one else.” When Hermione shot him a bemused look, he continued, “I know Bodge. If we merely ‘suggested’ someone he would have ignored it and sent us some whiny shit that I would have hexed within the first twenty-four. When Marius suggested you, I agreed. I knew you were smart and tough so I made him word it in a way that Ol’ Dodgy Bodgy couldn’t send one of his kiss-arses.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, dropping her hands into his. “I love it here. It’s beautiful and interesting and no one comments on the size of my breasts.”

“I could comment on them, if you’d like,” Charlie murmured, nuzzling the side of her neck and kissing her pulse point. 

“I’m sure you could find better things to do to them.”

* * *

“Noooo,” Hermione moaned as Charlie’s arm reached over her to turn off his alarm clock. 

“Rise and shine, love.” Charlie yawned and stretched his arms over his head. 

Hermione covered her head with a pillow. “You kept me up way too late for me to be up this early.”

“Aye, but dragons wait for no man.” He pulled the pillow from her grasp and added, “Or woman,” and then gave her a slap on the arse. When Hermione yelped and sat up he just grinned at her. “Meet ya out front in fifteen,” he said before heading for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione staggered out the front door in threadbare jeans, a green khaki button-up, and a baseball cap to tame her curls. Charlie was waiting for her, dressed similarly aside from he had his ginger hair pulled back with a leather tie and he looked like he could form a coherent thought.

“Boots are untied,” Charlie said with a snicker.

“Shut it Mr. It’s Not Too Late For a Third Go,” Hermione grumbled. She pulled out her wand, aimed it at her boots and the strings neatly laced themselves up. 

“I didn’t hear any protests last night.”

“Let’s go,” Hermione said, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn.

At the cafeteria, they each grabbed a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich, then parted ways for the morning. Charlie was leading a team up the mountain to try a few new search techniques out for spotting the mother dragon. Hermione was staying on the reserve to work with a smaller team on relocating Beryl to a new enclosure.

Hermione was into her fourth week on the reserve. The baby dragon had healed from its injuries and had also doubled in size. She was trying to flap her wings now but couldn’t stretch them fully in the small pen. The team had put off moving her as long as they could but, with no sign of the mother, they couldn’t wait any longer.

Raul was waiting for her at the gate with four other Dragonologists. Their plan was to use a gentle sleeping spell on Beryl, levitate her to the new enclosure, and then let her slowly wake up and monitor her transition into the new space. Raul assured Hermione that they had done this plenty of times before and that there wasn’t anything to worry about. Hermione trusted him, but still had a niggle of worry. All the other times had been with breeds of dragons they were familiar with. There wasn’t a surefire guarantee with Beryl.

As it was, three-quarters of their plan was successful. The team got Beryl to sleep easily and transported her to the new enclosure without any problem. It only took about a half hour for the dragon to start stirring as the spell wore off. When she was fully conscious, Beryl stalked around the perimeter of her new home. After circling twice, she stopped and let out a mournful cry that echoed over the fields. When the vibrations had faded, she let out a second wail.

Hermione had never heard a dragon make that sound before. They were certainly loud creatures, but it was usually a screeching noise. Beryl’s calls sounded like someone was mourning their one true love. Hermione started to undo the lock on the enclosure, but Raul pulled her hand away.

“No, we have no idea what she is capable of at the moment,” he said firmly.

Hermione nodded. She didn’t like the instructions but she understood and respected them. Just because she worked well with Beryl in the small pen didn’t mean the dragon would still be trusting of her when Beryl was in an agitated state.

Beryl continued circling the borders of the enclosure, never venturing into the center and still letting off her chill-inducing wails.

“Hermione!” a distant voice called.

Hermione turned and saw a small figure in the distance. As it got closure, her name was yelled once more. Hermione finally recognized it as Yolanda, racing in from the mountain on her broomstick.

“Yolanda,” Hermione shouted, rushing to Yolanda as she landed. “What’s wrong? Did you find the mother?”

“Oh yeah, we found her alright.” Yolanda grabbed Hermione’s hand and started pulling her to the main lab. “Or I should say the mother found us. Was that Beryl making those sounds?”

“Yeah, she finally found her voice,” Hermione said, tripping over rocks and divots as she tried to keep pace with Yolanda.

“After Beryl’s second cry, this enormous dragon appeared out of nowhere. I swear she descended from the sky, like the Good Lord himself, ready to reign vengeance on anything in her path. She started spitting fire and Charlie was pushing everyone out of the way.”

They had reached the lab now and Yolanda dragged Hermione up the steps and through the door. “Marius!” she shouted. She let go of Hermione and started running through the rooms, shouting for Marius, while Hermione’s body filled with panic.”

“Yolanda! Stop!” Hermione cried. The woman halted in the corridor and looked at Hermione. “Where’s Charlie?” she whispered, holding back a sob.

“He got hurt pretty bad. The guys are apparating him to the hospital as we speak. I just need Marius so we can get--”

Just then the door burst open and Marius, the director of the reserve, ran in.

“Yolanda! I just heard. How many do you need?” Marius asked, rushing past Yolanda to his office.

“Three!” Yolanda called, hurrying after him. “One to get Hermione to the hospital. One so I can get to England and notify his family. And then one more for me to take his family to the hospital.”

“Got it.” Marius placed three gold rings on his desk and tapped each with his wand. As they glowed blue Hermione finally realized they had been talking about Portkeys. “Here you are Miss Granger,” he said, handing her a ring. In a few seconds, this will take you to Bucharest General. I’ll join you when I can.”

Before Hermione could finish her thank you, she felt a tug at her navel and was sucked into the Portkey. In seconds she was spit out into a blindingly white lobby. Wasting no time, Hermione pushed through the crowds loitering by a coffee cart, perusing magazines and newspapers. She reached the front desk, panting and gulping for breath.

“Charlie Weasley,” she wheezed. “I need to see Charlie Weasley!”

The woman behind the desk shook her head and said, “Scuze, ce?”

“Shit,” Hermione hissed. She looked around frantically and tried to listen for anyone that might be speaking English. Her brain could only focus on one thing- Get to Charlie! “English! Does anyone speak English? Please?” Hermione shouted.

The lobby went silent for a moment as everyone stared at her, but they quickly lost interest and went back to their own conversations. Hermione was about to slide to the floor and sob her heart out when she heard someone calling her name. Looking up, she saw one of Charlie’s team members, Louie, racing to her.

“Come on,” Louie said and he led her to the lift bank. “Charlie’s in the emergency treatment center on the third floor.”

“What happened, Lou? How bad is it?”

“As far as I know he’s not critical. His legs are really badly burned, though, and he broke one of his arms.”

Hermione nodded and wrapped her arms around herself as the lift ascended. ‘He’s not going to die. He’s not going to die,’ she told herself. When the lift doors opened, she followed Louie to a waiting area where the other members of the team were sitting.

“Now, all we can do is wait,” Louie said, sitting down and patting the seat next to him.

Hermione collapsed into the chair and let her head fall into her hands. Adrenalin was running through her body. What is Louie was wrong? What if the healers started treatment and discovered there was more damage than they thought. What was the last thing she had said to him that morning? Shit! She had been complaining about weak coffee. No sweet I love yous or tender kiss. He had ruffled her hair and told her to, “Suck it up, Buttercup!”

“Where is he? Where’s my son?” a familiar voice shouted. Hermione glanced towards the lifts and saw the profile of Molly Weasley trying to decipher the Romanian direction signs. Arthur was right behind her, along with Ginny, Ron, and Harry.

“Over here,” Hermione called.

The family spotted her and Molly charged forward, locking Hermione in a right hug. “How is he?” she sniffled.

“I don’t know, to be honest. He’s only been with the healers for a short time and none of us have talked to them yet.”

Molly nodded and dabbed a handkerchief over her eyes. Hermione sat back down and the rest of the family followed suit, except for Molly. She started pacing the hall, keeping her eye on the door to Charlie’s room. 

It was an hour before there was any movement from the room. A healer, clad in dark blue scrubs came out and Hermione was relieved to see a smile on his face. She scurried up to him, anxiously holding on to Molly’s hand.

“You speak English, yes?” he asked. When Hermione and Molly nodded, he continued, “Very Good. Charles is stable. His legs have been badly burned and most of the work we were doing was trying to slowly cool the temperature of them so as not to leave any permanent damage to the tissue and muscle. His boys did a great job with their first aid treatment as they were transporting him here.” The healer gave the Dragonologists a thumbs up. “At the moment, we have him in an induced coma so that his body can stay relaxed and all the healing spells and potions can be quicker and more effective.”

“Can we see him?” Molly asked.

“He is going to be moved to the recovery ward shortly. If you would like to be with him when he finally wakes, you may sign in on the sixth floor. They will give you long term visitor badges.”

“Thank you,” Molly said, letting out a sigh of relief.

Hermione leaped at the healer and hugged him tightly. “Thank you so much,” she sobbed.

The healer patted her back and gently pried himself from her grasp. After several more thank yous, he went back into the room. The Dragonologists bid the family farewell, saying they were heading back to the reserve to give everyone the good news. Hermione joined the others in the short trip to the sixth floor where they were given visitor passes and directed to room 611.

Charlie was already there. His hair was fanned out on the pillow. There were scrapes along his left cheek and his left arm was wrapped in a heavy cast. Sheets had been pulled up over his legs and when Hermione passed by she could feel the cooling charm that had been placed on them. 

Gently, she ran her fingers over his forehead and back through his hair. Choking back a sob, she gingerly cupped her hand over his unscathed cheek. It was surreal to see the strong, resilient man lying beaten and unconscious. Hermione thanked the Gods for healing spells and strong pain potions.

"Do you think he would notice if I gave his hair a quick trim?" Molly joked, running a hand over Charlie's head.

"Don't you dare touch a strand of his beautiful hair," Hermione warned, before giving her pseudo-mother a reassuring smile.

Molly winked at her and said, "We'll chat when he wakes, shall we?"

Hermione nodded and made her way to sit on the couch with Harry and Ginny.

"I take it you found the closure you were looking for?" Harry said, grinning and patting her knee.

"I don't know if I'd call it closure. It's more like we opened a new door."

"Wait, what?" Ginny sat forward and looked from Hermione to Harry, then back again. "Are you and Charlie hooking up?!"

Hermione buried her face in her hands, wondering when it would be safe to look Molly and Arthur in the eyes again.

* * *

Muffled arguing woke Hermione from a restless sleep. Slowly blinking, she glanced around to find out who was fighting. 

Charlie's room was dark and all the others were still asleep. Molly and Arthur had transfigured their chairs into something resembling a recliner that they could sleep on. Ginny and Hermione had fallen asleep with their head on either of Harry's shoulders. 

Hermione listened closely. The arguing was happening in the hall, right outside Charlie's door. Easing herself off the couch, Hermione sneaked across the room and eased the door open. 

Marius, Yolanda, and Raul were standing opposite two very official looking gentlemen. In the middle of the fray was a frazzled looking medi-witch trying the calm the group down.

"Would you lot please shut up!" Hermione snapped. The bickering ceased and the medi-witch let out a huff. “What the hell is so important that you need to wake up an entire hospital wing with your fighting?”

Marius glared at the two officials and Hermione finally spotted their badges. They were Romanian Magical Law Enforcement.

“The Romanian Ministry heard about the dragon attack and want to question Charlie before…” Marius trailed off and glared at the officers again.

“Before what? What’s going on, Raul?” Hermione asked, panic seeping back into her already exhausted body.

“They’re going to put the mother down,” Raul said, throwing his own death glare at the agents, who had barely blinked an eye since Hermione entered the hall.

“You can’t do that!” Hermione shouted, completely forgetting her statement on sleeping patients. “That dragon did nothing wrong except act like any creature would when their young are in danger. You can’t punish an animal for having animal instincts!”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to explain to them but it’s Romanian law that a creature be executed after a severe attack,” Yolanda said, before adding on, “For the greater good, of course,” and rolled her eyes.

“This is Buckbeak all over again,” Hermione groaned, pulling at her hair. Her comment went unheard as Marius started arguing with the officers again, this time in his native Romanian language. 

Hermione glanced at the officers, making sure their attention was fully focused on Marius, and then pulled Raul to the side.

“Where is the dragon now?” she whispered.

“On the mountain. Not far from the cave where you and Charlie discovered the scales. After we knew Charlie was okay, we went back only to find the Ministry had gotten there before us and caged her.”

“Okay, good. I know exactly where she is. Can you get me back to the reserve?”

Raul gave her a skeptical look. “Whatever half-baked plan you have in your head, let it go. This is out of our hands.”

“No, it’s not,” Hermione insisted. “I know Charlie will be furious if he wakes up to find our month of hard work was murdered over a few silly burns.” Raul looked scandalized and Hermione backtracked, saying, “I know they’re not silly, but you know that that is exactly what Charlie would say.”

Raul gave one last look at the arguing men and nodded. “You’re right. Don’t let them see you leave.”

The pair shuffled slowly on the outskirts of the group, inching their way to the stairs. The clink of the metal handle echoed through the stairwell, but none of the others seemed to notice. Raul gently eased the door back into place and the last thing they heard was the wrath of Molly Weasley as they sped down the steps.”

* * *

“What’s your plan?” Raul asked as he pushed the speed limits of the Range Rover. They were speeding towards the cabins and so far hadn’t been followed by any Ministry officials.

“I’m going to get Beryl and fly with her up the mountain, to her mother. Break Mama Dragon out and set them both free.

“I think you’re overestimating how easy this is going to be.” 

Raul skidded to a stop just a few meters from Beryl’s enclosure. The dragon let out one of her wails as Hermione summoned her rucksack and started unlocking the gate. 

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” Hermione said, trying to catch her breath and stay calm. When Beryl saw Hermione approaching, she stopped wailing and stood still. With long, slow strides, Hermione was allowed to get close. When she held out her hand, Beryl gave a sniff and then gave Hermione’s hand a nudge. “Good girl. What do you say we go see your mum?”

“You ever rode a dragon before?” Raul called, standing a safe distance away from the open gate.

“Once,” Hermione called back. “It was a lot bigger than Beryl. I believe it was a Ukranian Ironbelly.” She led the dragon to the gate before climbing onto her back. “Okay, I know flying is still new for you, but I believe in you.”

“Pretty sure she has no clue what you’re saying.”

Just then a long, loud wail issued from the mountains. It was similar to Beryl’s but deeper and sadder.

“Maybe not, but she definitely knows what _she’s_ saying.” 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Beryl spread her wings, gave them a few flaps, then took off at a run out the gate. It didn’t take long for the dragon’s instincts to kick in and she took flight. There was a bit of turbulence as she got used to her wings but it was short lived. In no time at all, she was on a direct path to her mother. 

When Beryl landed, Hermione jumped off and let the dragon approach her mother on her own. The large pearl-colored dragon let out a victorious roar as her baby raced to the cage. She started pawing at the metal bars, trying to get Beryl. Hermione covered her ears as the clanging increased with the mother’s frustration. 

With slow, calculated steps, Hermione moved towards the cage. She talked in a low, soothing voice as the mother’s eyes were locked on her every move. She paused beside Beryl, letting the matriarch see that she meant no harm to either of them. 

When nothing happened, Hermione removed her wand but held it down at her side. Placing her hand on the lock, she waited for another moment, making sure the mother was still calm. Finally, she raised her wand and performed an unlocking spell. It took several tries, needing more than a simple _Alohamora._

The cage door swung open and Beryl rushed into the cage before the mother could come out. 

“I suggest you relock that cage, Miss Granger.”

Hermione turned around to find the two Romanian Ministry officials pointing their wands at her.

“I’m not going to let you kill this dragon,” Hermione said, aiming her own wand at the officers.

“Why must you make this difficult.” The taller of the two said something in Romanian to the other and the shorter official nodded. “Unless you want them both to die, please move.”

In a moment of desperation, Hermione backed herself into the cage with the dragons and placed her own locking spell on the padlock.

The officials started shouting in Romanian and Hermione was pretty sure half of their tirade were curses directed at her. While they continued yelling, Hermione placed protection and repelling charms around the cage. Marius finally joined the chaos as the Ministry officials were arguing over how to break the spell on the lock.

“Hermione, come out of there,” he said, tossing his broomstick aside. “There are better ways to handle this.”

“No. As soon as I’m out of the way they’ll kill both of them. The only way I’m coming out is if they sign a contract or make an Unbreakable Vow not to slaughter the dragons.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m not letting you stay locked in a cage with two dragons!”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Marius shook his head and stalked towards the cage. When he hit the repelling charm, he was thrown back onto the hard, frozen dirt.

“You have my demands. They are simple and few. I look forward to our negotiations.” Hermione sat down and the mother dragon let out another roar.

* * *

“What’s it been now, B? Four days? Five?”

The young dragon flicked its tail and one of the spikes caught Hermione’s pants. Hermione sat up and frowned at the frayed denim.

“Lucky these aren't my favorite pair,” she muttered and performed a hasty stitching spell over the rip. 

Negotiations about the fate of the dragons were going very slowly. The Romanian Ministry insisted that at least the mother had to be executed, in keeping with the law. To not follow through would show weakness and set a dangerous precedent. Hermione argued that if that was the case then they needed to reevaluate their laws.

In the meantime, Hermione’s rations were running low. She was living off a few granola bars and raisins that she kept in her pack, along with her jug of water. At least she was able to refill the water. Digging through the rucksack, she pulled out her last granola bar. She broke off half and put the other half back in the bag. 

Harry and Ginny had been allowed to fly up and visit with her. They let her know that Charlie was now awake and, as expected, outraged that they were trying to put down the dragon. Apparently, he got so worked up the medi-witches had to hold him down and force a Calming Draught into him. Even with only one good arm, they needed four people to pull off that heroic feat.

Aside from Marius and Ministry officials, no one else had been allowed up to her. It wasn’t too bad at first. Hermione always enjoyed the quiet. But there was only so many times a person could read the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary Handbook before going absolutely stir crazy. Hermione reckoned she was about one read through away from that point.

Resting her head on her pack, she got as comfortable as possible and let herself doze off. She hadn’t been asleep for long before she was awoken by the sound of snapping twigs.

“You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

Hermione rolled over to see Charlie limping towards her. He held a cane in his good hand and had his rucksack slung over his shoulder. 

“Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

“Okay, so we’re both crazy. You want to drop your wards so I can give you some proper food?”

Hermione looked around, trying to spot any officials hiding amongst the trees. “Are you alone?”

“Yolanda flew me up, but she’s gone now and won’t be back for another hour.”

Hermione pulled her wand from her pack and lowered the protection wards around the cage, though kept the door locked. Charlie smiled and passed a sandwich through the bars, along with a packet of crisps and a chocolate biscuit. 

“You should be resting. Not up on a mountain,” Hermione said, biting into the sandwich. “I’m handling things here.”

“Well, you’ve certainly caused a stir within the Romanian Ministry and ruffled some feathers back in Britain. I must say, I’m impressed.” Charlie lowered himself to the ground so he could sit beside her. “I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some really good news. Which would you like first?”

“Good news,” Hermione said thickly, through a mouthful of chips. 

“The Romanian Ministry has caved to your demands. The dragons are allowed to go free.”

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione cried. She reached her hand through the bars and grabbed Charlie’s good arm. “If that’s the good news, then what’s the really good news?”

“You’ve really pissed off Bodge and, effective immediately, you’re fired.”

“How the hell is that ‘really good news?”

“Because it would seem that Marius loves you almost as much as I do and is giving you a job on the reserve.”

Hermione froze for a second. Did he just say what she thought he said?

“Are you serious?” she whispered.

“Of course. Everyone here thinks you’re great. Was there ever--”

“No, not about the job. I believe that. The other thing you said. You love me?”

Charlie grinned and his cheeks went pink. “Oh, that? Yeah, I do. I’ve loved you for a long time”

Hermione jumped up, smacking her head on the top of the cage but she didn’t care. With a slash of her wand, the padlock flew off and Hermione pushed the door open. 

“Go on, you’re free,” Hermione said, urging the dragons to follow. 

Beryl took a few tentative steps out before darting into the nearby cave. The mother was quick to follow. Once Hermione vanished the cage, the two poked their heads out before emerging and spreading their wings. With one last roar, they took flight, disappearing into the clouds.

“So, what do you say? You up for living on a dragon reserve?” Charlie asked, wrapping his uncasted arm around her waist.

“Depends. Do I get my own cabin?” 

“Not a chance,” he murmured finally letting his lips meet her. “You’re stuck with me.”


End file.
